


gratuitous paint and freckles

by musesoffire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Obscure ships ahoy, shameless fluff, surprise surprise cute boys painting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesoffire/pseuds/musesoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Marius wants to learn to paint fans, which may or may not be related to the fact that he’s got a crush on a particular fan maker</p>
            </blockquote>





	gratuitous paint and freckles

The first time Marius sees Feuilly paint, he finds himself irrevocably in love with the way Feuilly’s slim fingers hold the brush, gently guiding it along the thin paper of the fan he’s got spread out on his table. He’s working on a new design, something he’d rather try out first with a paper fan on his kitchen table than tomorrow at work on the silk ones he sells to customers. His hand moves deftly, flicking strokes of purple and green across the white fan like it’s the most natural thing in the world, slowly but surely creating a string of lavender flowers that seems to bloom from one end of the fan to the other. As he works, he furrows his brow, his face hardening in concentration. After a few minutes of painting, he looks up, almost surprised to see Marius still standing in front of the table watching him.

“I told you, it’s not very exciting.” Feuilly laughs, his voice pulling Marius out of his reverie with a jolt. Marius quickly shakes his head in protest.

“No, it’s…” Marius stammers, trying to find just the right word to convey his utter fascination, the way he’s fallen in love with Feuilly’s cute little smirk as he finishes a perfect curling tendril or the little frown he makes when he has to go back and fix a flower he thought he’d finished or even the way he gets a tiny bit of paint on his face without realizing it when he itches his nose with the back of his paint speckled hand. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks!” Feuilly beams proudly, his paint splattered nose crinkling in delight.

“You paint beautifully.” Marius says, blushing a little as he stares at Feuilly’s crooked little smile of satisfaction. “I mean, god, where do you even learn to do that?”

“I went to the most prestigious and elite fan painting school in France from ages three to twenty.” Feuilly deadpans, laughing at the confusion that clouds Marius’ face. “I’m just kidding. I taught myself.”

“That’s really incredible.” Marius replies. The room falls silent except for the rattling of the heater and the sound of footsteps and voices from the apartment upstairs.

“Would you like me to show you how to paint?” Feuilly asks, grinning at the way Marius’ face lights up at the suggestion.

Before Marius knows it, Feuilly has gotten another paper fan and a clean set of brushes and has pulled a chair over so that Marius can sit by his side while Feuilly helps Marius maneuver his brush along the ridges of the fan, spread out across the table in a wide half circle. Feuilly’s nimble fingers rest on top of Marius’ clumsy ones, gently guiding them in long, sweeping strokes across the paper, covering the bare white with splashes of orange and gold and blue in elegant swirls and curves. Marius focuses intently on his work, trying to apply brush strokes as delicately and carefully as Feuilly can. He knows Feuilly is there to help him and that he’s just a beginner, but he also doesn’t want to make a fool of himself. However, the fan begins to become more and more beautiful: an increasingly colorful canvas of rich colors that seem to combine gracefully in a tangle of flourishes and curls. It’s only just when he’s almost finished that his hand slips, smearing bright blue messily across the fan.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Marius stammers. He can feel his face turning red as he stares down at his mistake, avoiding Feuilly’s glance. “I completely messed it up and you were nice enough to let me use one of your fans and help show me how to…”

“It’s okay,” Feuilly laughs, standing up from his chair and heading towards the sink. “It’s not a big deal.” he says, grabbing a few paper towels and dampening them slightly before sitting back down at the table. Carefully, he uses the paper to wipe off the smeared paint, leaving nothing but a very faint streak of blue on a now slightly damp part of the fan. “See? All better.” Feuilly concludes, and Marius is struck once again by just how wonderful Feuilly is. To watch Feuilly at work has the thrill of watching someone perform magic tricks right before your eyes: you know it’s possible to do what he’s doing, you’re sure there’s a way a person can learn to make something out of nothing the way he does, you know he’s doing all this somehow, you just can’t quite figure it out. And then all at once, Marius is once again overwhelmed by Feuilly, by everything and anything about him from his artistic wizardry, to the cute little freckles that burst across his dark skin like constellations, to that one black curl that never stays put and falls in his eyes all the time, to the little dot of blue paint on his nose and god, Feuilly’s so perfect Marius doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

“I really like you a lot.” Marius says suddenly, looking almost as surprised as Feuilly by his sudden outburst. “Actually I think I’m sort of in love with you.”

“What?” Feuilly stammers, eyes wide in shock.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, that was too much, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just…” Marius chokes out, tripping over his own words in an attempt to explain himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to creep you out, it’s just that I really like you and oh god I’m such a…”

“Hold still, loverboy.” Feuilly chuckles, focusing his gaze intently on Marius’ cheek. “You’ve got a little paint on your cheek.” Marius stops his rambling as Feuilly grabs the still damp paper towels from the table, wrapping one of the towels around his finger and holding it just above Marius’ face. “Is it alright if I get it off for you?” Marius nods but says nothing, still nervous over Feuilly’s reaction to his sudden confession. Feuilly gently wipes the little streak of red off of Marius’ cheek in a few quick strokes. “You know,” he says as he finishes cleaning Marius up and heads to the trashcan to throw away the paper towels. “I like you a lot too.”

“Really?” Marius sputters, flushing even redder.

“Of course, you nerd. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly spend two hours on a Saturday morning showing someone I hate how to paint.”

“Oh.” Marius says, visibly crestfallen.

“No, I don’t mean…” Feuilly adds quickly, “it’s not just that I don’t hate you, it’s that I really like you. Being around. You. That’s what I meant.” he clarifies. Marius lights up, smiling widely and feeling as if every cell in his body was animated by an unknown force. And then before either one knows it they’re kissing, gently at first and then more passionately. It’s messy and awkward and Marius clearly doesn’t do this very often, but there’s something so honest and affectionate about Marius and god, any mistakes aren’t from lack of trying. Feuilly can’t help but smiling a little because even if Marius uses a little too much tongue and probably breathes heavier than strictly necessary, there’s so much warmth and earnestness and affection in it that any awkwardness is more than made up for.

It’s only after a few minutes, when they’re both flushed and a little at a loss for breath, that they both pull away to collect themselves and steady their breathing. “I’m sorry,” Feuilly says, eyes suddenly going wide with realization. “I brought you over to my house alone and you probably think… I’m just…” he stammers, blanching and staring down at his feet. “I don’t want to lead you on or anything, I wasn’t trying to… It’s just…” he looks up at Marius, who stares back at him in a combination of confusion and concern. “I mean, I’m ace and I guess I should have said that up front or something and I’m sorry if I made you think that…”

“It’s okay.” Marius interrupts quietly, offering a warm smile. “God, of course it’s okay! I mean… I wasn’t trying to get in your pants or anything.”

“No, I didn’t think you were, I just should have said something earlier and I didn’t mean to get you all…”

“It’s okay.” Marius smiles, taking Feuilly’s hand, their slightly paint-stained fingers weaving together. “Just… let me know if I ever make you uncomfortable or anything, alright?” Feuilly nods and sighs in relief, giving Marius’ hand a little squeeze before going off to make them both a little tea while they clean up the paint supplies from the kitchen table.

“You know you’ve got some paint on your nose.” Marius points out as Feuilly begins searching through his cabinet for his tea kettle.

“Well don’t just stand there!” Feuilly teases as Marius gets up to grab some more paper towels to clean Feuilly up with.


End file.
